Difference
by civillove
Summary: anon request; bottom sebastian


**Title**: Difference  
**Pairing**: seblaine  
**Summery**: anon request~ Sebastian bottom  
**Type: **drabble (but actually it's a oneshot)  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, cheesus, or Sebastian would be in glee more than one episode with floppy hair.  
**Author's note**: Dedicated to my Sebastian (dasgaybleins). Also, this is my first time using a different tensing? Let me know if it sounds alright.

Blaine doesn't get drunk often. It's not that he doesn't approve of drinking; it's just that he's had an uncle who died from getting hit from a drunk driver, so he understands the dangers of enjoying one thing too much in one sitting. He wouldn't exactly call himself a beer drinker. More like he'll drink it if he absolutely has to; he enjoys shots of things like Tequila or vodka a whole lot more, but when a keg is the only thing available he doesn't exactly deny himself a few cups as long as he's not the designated driver.

And for some reason he feels that no matter what Dalton party they're going to Sebastian always ends up making sure that he's not.

_You need to relax more_, he tells him, _sometimes I feel like that tie is so tightly wrapped around your neck that your head is going to pop off._

He knows his boyfriend says it with an endearing smile, that he hates to see him so stressed, or tightly wound, or something that doesn't let him enjoy things he could be indulging in—and while all those things are most likely true, Blaine thinks it has a lot to do with the fact that he likes seeing him tipsy.

And maybe he can understand that a little. Because after two beers in and a few shots of vodka, he doesn't exactly have an award for being the best in the world for holding his liquor, he feels good. He's pretty sure he looks good too, unless those passing glances from Warblers and Lacrosse players that 'are not so but definitely are' gay are all in his head and soaked in residues of stale vodka. Blaine has never been one to bask in his appearance, but tonight the glow of alcohol is thrumming through his system and he feels like he might be able to admit that his jeans _do_ look rather perfect hugging all of his right places and his simple t-shirt with a big red Dalton D on it is accentuating his forearms. His hair isn't matted down by gel but just enough to give his hair an attractive wave, his cheeks are rosy, he can feel the heat radiating off of them. His lips are probably bruised red, because he keeps chewing on them as he works his way through the dense heat of the crowd to locate his boyfriend. So yeah, tonight Blaine isn't afraid to admit that he might look good. That he might look _damn_ good and that he, for a change, feels good about looking good.

He's pretty sure it's the alcohol talking but it doesn't really matter much when he finally does find Sebastian, who is coming out of one of the bathrooms with a smile on his face as he sees Blaine.

"I've been looking for you!" Blaine wraps his arms around Sebastian's waist, nuzzling into his chest for a long moment before he feels Sebastian chuckle, feels it vibrate in his chest above the thrum of the pulsing loud music against his cheek.

Sebastian's hands glide down his back, his fingers playing with the bottom part of his shirt before raking his nails back up his spine. It makes him shiver. "Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you," He looks down as Blaine pulls back. There's a hint of an amused smile lacing Sebastian's lips, it makes Blaine want to kiss them. "How much have you had to drink?"

Blaine shrugs his one shoulder, partly because he can't remember, partly because Sebastian smells so good and partly because he hasn't been able to take his eyes off his lips and…how many partlys are in a whole?

"Not sure," He hums, finally tearing his eyes away to look up at pools of evergreen, like moss, turned darker by the gray shade of his polo shirt…or perhaps something else. "I'm totally fine though."

Sebastian laughs and the sound causes Blaine's heart to skip. "Your pupils are completely dilated." He pulls back and gives him a sarcastic tap on the tip of his nose with his finger.

Blaine grins at him. Dilated seems like a fun word to say but he can't quite get his brain to deliver the message successfully to his tongue.

"Your eyes always look like that," He leans up on his toes (one of the many things he loves about Sebastian being so tall) and kisses him.

The kisses taste like expensive scotch mixed with cheap beer—the new taste is from the inside of Sebastian's lower lip. He's not surprised that someone brought expensive goods to a party, some members of Dalton too proper for eighty dollar beer kegs.

He nearly forgets to finish his sentence. "Right before…I take your cock in my mouth." He hums, suckling on Sebastian's lower lip as the other's eyes widen and he puts a firm hand between their bodies to separate them just a little, a laugh slipping from his throat as he sputters at Blaine's blatancy.

"And your public filter is gone," He shakes his head, moving to kiss the side of Blaine's mouth before pulling back.

Blaine has this thing for public correctedness; it'd be all the more endearing if Sebastian had never seen his more guttural side before. The one that comes out in their bedroom, when he's moaning and gasping and demanding for his cock inside of him. The one that swears when he's extremely upset or snaps with sass when he's frustrated. And while Sebastian loves every side of his boyfriend, he can't help but be interested in that darker side (the one with honey comb colored eyes through thick lashes and wild curls) that one that was so different from the Blaine with wide smiles, bright eyes, and occasional bowties at face value.

"Come on, killer," He wraps an arm around Blaine's waist, squeezing him as they begin to make their way through the crowd of grinding, drinking, conversing bodies to the exit. "Let's get you some fresh air before you start exposing our sex life to anyone who will listen."

Blaine wants to protest, wants to grab another drink and maybe even dance but he's helpless against the insistent pull of Sebastian's arm and the comforting swirl of his cologne wafting to his nose…and it's not like he wouldn't rather be alone with him anyways.

"Did you like the party?" Blaine asks as they make it through the exit, heading down the long hall of the lower level of the dorm building. They're not going straight to the parking lot to Sebastian's car, it's Friday so they were going to make a trip back to Blaine's house. He thinks he knows his boyfriend well enough to figure out that they're taking the long way to get there so he can walk off some of the alcohol in his system—past the little café and swimming pool and locker rooms to exit out of the back of the building to round it again to his car. It's all very confusing in his head, the back tracking and roundabout nature making a small giggle escape his mouth for no real reason other than the fact that Sebastian is oh so close and he smells like coffee beans, vodka and expensive cologne mixed with soap…and he wants to kiss down his body and circle his tongue in the shadows of his skin.

"I did as long as you did, B." Is Sebastian's response, looking down at him with a fond smile on his face. He moves his other arm that isn't securely wrapped around his waist to rake his fingers through his curls, the touch so tender and owning that Blaine closes his eyes (and is satisfied when he doesn't trip over his own feet).

The pool is obviously empty at this late hour when they push open the doors to head through to the locker room to get to that destination door for the back of the parking lot. Sebastian's voice echoes against the tile, the water murkily lapping against the sides of the deck as a light and bright yellowish blue reflects against their skin as they walk.

"We'll get home and get some food in your stomach," Blaine playfully bats Sebastian's hand away as the other reaches across to tickle his side. His arm tightens around the shorter's waist as he smiles. "And lots a water, a couple of aspirin, then you should be fairly presentable when your parents come home. Look at me, being a good influence." He teases, pushing the heavy metal locker room door open for Blaine and him to pass through.

Blaine pulls away from Sebastian's embrace as they get inside; parts of the locker room are dark because of the late part of the night. Dalton's pool and locker room are actually only open from 7am to 7pm but since attending students more often than not have blemish free records, a lot of the facilities are left unlocked and unsupervised—the only rule is to respect the equipment and each other. And a lot of boys took take that as: just don't get caught doing anything stupid.

"I'm not even that drunk." He protests, stumbling back over his shoe and nearly giving Sebastian a heart attack before he steadies himself on the wall leading to the showers. He giggles.

Sebastian shakes his head, wishes his boyfriend would stop laughing like that because all he wants to do is smile and smother him in kisses. He's trying to be responsible, damnit. "You know, I find that hard to tell with you." It's a joke because one look at Blaine can tell someone who knows him that he is _not_ prim and proper, well spoken and behaved, Blaine Warbler. "One sure fire way to tell if someone's drunk sometimes is that they tend to stand on furniture for no real reason...but since you do that while sober…"

The slow realizing smile on Blaine's lips is enough to make his chest flutter with something ridiculous that he might relate to butterflies. It's a nice feeling. One that only happens around Blaine and one that he sometimes wishes he hadn't gotten addicted to. The feeling fades, well…not so much fades as turns into something else, transforms, into a feeling that's all too familiar. Blaine tips himself back, just a little, to lean against the wall like he might need the support—he's probably dizzy but it doesn't seem to be bothering him as he smiles up at his boyfriend. Sebastian's eyes zero in on what has drawn his attention away from that fluttery feeling, a space of skin, of hipbones, of tummy and entrancing patches of rough hair that are exposed to him when Blaine leans back.

He licks his lips, his gaze flickering to Blaine's, who is all too carefree and oblivious, humming something that sounds like a Christmas song. Split decision made between that so called responsibility he had been droning on about like a mantra in his head not more than ten minutes ago and the jerk of his cock in his jeans before closing the space between them and pressing Blaine's body into his and the wall, his lips crashing down onto unsuspecting full ones.

Being a good influence has never really been Sebastian's forte anyways.

Blaine's body responds immediately, regardless of the slow disconnect that the alcohol has caused between his brain and mouth and kisses him back with fever, his tongue curling out and against Sebastian's teeth as his arms slip around his back. He had fully intended on making this short and sweet, mutual handjobs to just get the overwhelming need to touch his boyfriend out of his system…but suddenly Blaine is yanking them towards one of the shower stalls and Sebastian nearly trips over the tiled edge to step inside.

"Want you…want—" Blaine trails off, stutters, lips hotly smacking over parts of Sebastian's skin as he pulls him into the spacious shower stall, tugging the curtain closed and gripping at parts of his body.

Sebastian is pretty sure that Blaine has no idea what he's asking for or what he even wants so he tries to help, tries one more time to back up and say that he can just take him home. He smiles at Blaine's lips on his neck and tries to kick his resolve in the ass.

"Babe, are you…we don't have to do this. You're kind of drunk and while I find you dragging me into a public shower stall rather sexy, we can wait until you're sober to do…whatever it is you're trying to accomplish."

"Too many words, too many layers." Blaine mutters, looking up at him with sex driven hazy clouded eyes. He gives him this look that's probably supposed to resemble a pout but his demeanor is so fucking wrecked that he just comes across horny and desperate. Which is completely fine with him. "Sober enough to know that I want to fuck you right now."

Well, shit. That kind of changes the whole situation around, doesn't it?

Except for the sheer fact that Sebastian has never bottomed before and he wasn't exactly ready to let Blaine in on that.

It has nothing to do with the fact that he would probably enjoy it, especially with Blaine because really, how could he not? They were past being sexually shy around one another, it had taken Blaine months to come out of his shell and just admit what he wanted and what felt good; a lot of coaxing from Sebastian and assuring him that he was okay and could even say things that he didn't want. They were safe with eachother, considerate, something Sebastian had never once applied to sex before or the person he was with. It had only been about the rush of the job, the slapping of skin, moans and groans and the rush from an orgasm.

Everything is different with Blaine. Because Blaine, himself, is different. Special.

And if anyone had tried to tell him some shit like that a year ago he would have rolled his eyes and gagged on the sheer principle of wondering where the fuck that person's dignity had gone.

It doesn't take Blaine very long to get their clothes off, his eyes shining with eagerness and excitement as he tosses them outside of the shower stall in piles, pulls Sebastian's body flush against his and shivers madly when his back hits the cool tile wall. Sebastian blindly reaches for the knobs of the shower, yanking Blaine's body out of the way as the shower sputters to life, freezing cold water spattering the opposite wall before warm and hot slowly make their way out of the faucet. Blaine is laughing against his neck between kisses, his tongue arching out and licking down his pulse point as Sebastian watches the water create a thick steam in the stall with them, his hands gingerly rubbing the goosebumps popping along Blaine's arms.

Blaine pulls them into the water, the hard stream pounding against Sebastian's back as his lips attach themselves once again to his boyfriend's. His hand traces down the length of the other's back, grabbing at his ass and moaning as their erections bump together between them.

"Floor, B." Sebastian manages to get out around the moan slipping off his tongue when Blaine grinds his hips into his.

He can tell the moment Blaine's lip forms into a frown, a confused one, his hesitance showing in the slowing down of their kisses. Sebastian smiles a little against his mouth and runs his hand up to wrap around the back of Blaine's neck.

"We have to do this on the floor if you want to fuck me. I am not standing for this." He licks his lips, eyes ticking back and forth between hazel. His first time for this is embarrassing enough but if his fucking legs give out in response to his orgasm he's pretty sure he'll never be able to live that down—hazed drunk Blaine or not.

Blaine looks down at the tiled floor, shuffling his feet. "That's disgusting Sebastian." He scrunches his nose in this most adorable way that it makes Sebastian's stomach bottom out—ripple in flutters that carry throughout his entire body. "What if my penis gets athlete's foot?" It's a distant thought, he can tell there's not actually a lot of weight behind the question, but the absurdity of it makes Sebastian laugh anyways.

"We'll be quick," Sebastian assures him, reaching down to help the process along by grasping his boyfriend's cock, the weight of it in his hand something familiar and soothing.

He strokes once and twice, his own dick swelling and pearling at the tip at the sound of little mews and gasps leaving Blaine's lips, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones.

"Your cock will be fine." He chuckles, moving to kiss hotly against Blaine's collar bone.

They settle on the floor a few seconds later; Sebastian awkwardly lying on his back as Blaine settles between his legs. The tile floor is rough and hard, cold and wet against his back, the shower stream smacking him directly in the stomach, his legs shaking as Blaine parts them wider. He wants to sit up a little but he's afraid the hard floor will dig into the bottom of his spine, wants to tell Blaine to just forget this fucking stupid set up and do this in a bed. But a certain amount of his pride doesn't let him speak up as Blaine leans down and takes the tip of his cock in his mouth, his fingers spreading his cheeks and ghosting around that tight ring of muscles. The pressure drives him crazy, low growls clawing up his throat as Blaine takes him deeper, white hot pleasure threatening to spiral throughout his body as Blaine pushes a finger inside of him—the sensation is incredible, far more pleasurable than he imagined it could be. It's when his boyfriend's second finger slides in with the first, the stretching of muscle achingly amazing and painful at the same time, that he really understands what Blaine's doing…what he's preparing him for.

Sebastian isn't exactly a blushing virgin—more like the farthest thing from it. He's had sex before with strangers, fucked guys in the back of his car while managing to keep cum off the upholstery, messy handjobs in public bathrooms, blowjobs as Sebastian's fingers run through the other's hair on their knees…it's not like he's never fingered himself either. Actually, he's thought of many instances where it's been just like this. Maybe not exactly the setting of a public shower but…on his back, with Blaine between his legs, touching and stretching him to get ready for his cock? Yeah, that's something he's thought about _a lot, _the sense memory filling up his chest cavity and swelling his cock until the tip is red and aching, leaking with precum. The first time Sebastian had touched Blaine like that, fingers dipping straight into his center, his mouth wrapped perfectly around his cock and sucking till it hit the back of his throat, his boyfriend had been so anxious that he had covered his beet red face with a pillow, his lower half trembling with nerves.

But Sebastian isn't really worried about that. Because Sebastian Smythe doesn't get nervous.

Blaine moans softly around his cock, the sound of the shower and defined sucking noise echoing deliciously off the walls. Sebastian looks down at him, his hand trailing down his chest to fist his fingers in Blaine's curls, tugging until he can hear a grunt escape the throat of his boyfriend. He shifts his hips down and up, groaning at the lost of contact when Blaine pulls back with an audible pop. He's got this shit eating grin on his face, like he'd been caught sucking on a lollypop before dinner…and is utterly satisfied with himself.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, hisses 'tease' through his teeth and licks his lips as the other takes precum from the end of his cock and swirls it along his fingers, distributing it as much as he can along the length of his cock to prepare himself. He knows this preparation is out of the goodness of his boyfriend's heart, it's one of the things he loves about him, always so concerned about the other person that he almost always forgets to care about what _he_ wants or needs…but if he watches Blaine stroke himself, his own cock hard and throbbing against his lower stomach much longer he's going to fucking lose it.

The stream of the water is far enough away that even the droplets that bounce off his stomach don't wash away the lubrication on Blaine's cock as he leans closer and pushes his head to his opening, achingly slow with precision for being so tipsy. He's honestly impressed—and then words stop forming because—

"Fuck!"

Blaine giggles, a sound that should be goddamn inappropriate as he's slides himself further and further inside of him, stretching him slowly, his fingers dancing along the soft skin on the inside of his thighs near his balls. Sebastian's hands snap up to fist in his own hair, his eyes squinting shut as _fuckfuckfuck—_

Sebastian notices when Blaine's demeanor changes; the gradual push of his hips slow, his fingers tracing circles along his hipbones as he manages to crack open one of his eyes to look up at him, the water bouncing off of his stomach splattering his vision a little bit. But though blurred, he can see something different in Blaine's face—the expression is soft, thoughtful, not doused in alcohol, arousal or amusement. There's a small pass of understanding and it makes something hard strike the inside of his chest cavity, like someone hit his ribs with a baseball bat, the wind knocked out of him as he tries to pant (because all in all this fucking moment of theirs, whatever it is, is really touching, but he's still rock hard against his stomach and Blaine's partly _inside_ of him) and if he doesn't start moving soon he's pretty sure he's going to _die_. There's this white hot coiling of pleasure unraveling in his stomach already that he wants to give into but can't yet.

Blaine starts moving again, sliding all the way inside and breathing heavily as he leans down and kisses along Sebastian's chest, his tongue flicking out to lick along his right nipple. Sebastian's hands stroke down Blaine's back, his nails digging into his skin as Blaine moves his head to kiss him. It's gentle and unexpected and when he pulls back, he can see it in his eyes, the asshole fucking _knows_. It's incredibly frustrating and endearing to Sebastian all at the same time that Blaine Anderson can be halfway to drunk off his ass and still manage to fuck his boyfriend with tender, comforting touches and care.

"Move." Sebastian gasps out. "Fuck, _Blaine_ if you don't move—" His voice is cracked in half with a drawn out whine, Blaine's hips slowly pulling back and snapping forward.

His cock jerks; Blaine is thick and hot inside of him, the pain from stretching his muscles slowly diminishing as pleasure starts to roll up from his stomach, his balls filling and resting heavily against the inside of his thigh, his fingers curling into the tiles as Blaine hoists his one leg up onto his shoulder and holy _fuck_—Blaine's cock hits something deep inside him, brushes the tip against a bundle of nerves, something he's never felt before even with the help of his fingers.

Sebastian can't even appreciate how fucking gorgeous Blaine looks right now, chest a light and pretty pink, droplets of water cascading down his skin, his hips finding a perfect rhythm as he rocks into Sebastian, thrusting against that center of frayed nerves until he sees stars, his hair is a wreck, the little bit of gel that had been there washed out, wild curls twisting in ways that make him want to tug at them.

He cums hard. _Really_ hard. Hard enough that his back arches as ribbons of white decorate his skin for the briefest of moments before the water washes them away, little black speckles covering his eye sight before he squeezes them shut. He gasps when Blaine pulls out, watches him unravel through half closed eyes. Blaine twists his wrist around the base of his cock, cumming with a groan that sounds a lot like his name, sputters a moment and has to grab at the tiled wall for support.

Sebastian leans up, his legs settling around Blaine's sides, his hand coming up to clasp the back of his neck. He pulls him forward and kisses him, his lips sliding effortlessly against his boyfriend's, his thumb stroking the end of his hairline. His tongue sneaks out and he smirks at the small gasp that leaves Blaine's mouth as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

After their kisses slow, Blaine cups Sebastian's face, his thumb inching along the other's dusted pink cheekbone before kissing the tip of his nose. Sebastian rolls his eyes, embarrassed but never showing it, that those little touches from Blaine always make his chest fill up with warmth. He always tends to feel like this when he's around him, in moments like this, between ragged breathing slowing and heartbeats. Full, somehow complete.

Sebastian eventually decides that while he'd love to stay on the floor with him, under the stream of the shower, they should probably get him home. He stands and helps the other up, washes the cum from their bodies and turns the stream off. They don't have towels so he uses the undershirt he had on under his polo and dabs Blaine's body, removing most of the moisture and doing the same for himself as they get dressed. There's this calmness to their mutual silence, a domestic nature, that he'll never admit he kind of likes.

Blaine leans into Sebastian's body, curls still damp from their shower escapade as Sebastian wraps a firm arm around his waist to lead him out into the parking lot. They walk slowly to his car, the October wind making Blaine shiver and when they reach their destination Sebastian is sure he's the tiniest bit sober.

He crawls into the passenger seat as Sebastian grabs a sweatshirt from the backseat and wraps it around his boyfriend's shoulders, pulling the hood up and everything to cover his ears. He smirks softly when Blaine looks up at him with this smile…like he just cured kitten cancer or something. He's pretty sure he'd never be able to admit that either, that he kind of lives for those looks that Blaine gives when he's proud of him…even in a half drunken stages like this.

Proud of him for wrapping a _sweatshirt_ over his shoulders. Fuck is he in trouble.

Before he can even start the car, Blaine opens his mouth. A soft humming surfaces from his throat; he shivers softly and nuzzles his body into the sweatshirt wrapped around him and the car seat.

"Why didn't you tell me…?" The seconds between make Sebastian's ears burn. "That you had never bottomed before?"

Sebastian recognizes the soft concern in his voice, the slight tinge of sleepiness from the force of his orgasm in the shower stall and heaviness haze of the alcohol settling warmly in his system.

"You were kind of insisting," Sebastian smiles at him, just the side of his mouth quirks up as he reaches to turn the car on and in turn, flip the heat dial so Blaine stops shivering. "And if you don't remember I was a bit too busy assuring you that your cock was safe from a foot fungus."

Blaine giggles and shakes his head, turning on his side and leaning forward to push his face into Sebastian's neck as his arm winds around his upper waist. He sighs, his breath skittering across his skin and making the bit of cologne that was still there all the more pungent. Sebastian shivers as he feels the tip of Blaine's nose burrow in a place directly under his ear.

"My hero." Blaine teases, placing a kiss on the strong line of his jaw. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sebastian shrugs his one shoulder, turning his head to brush his lips along Blaine's forehead. He kisses the top of his hairline and breathes out through his nose. "It's not important, babe." He says softly, reaching up and hooking his finger around a curl that's sticking out of the hood.

Blaine's fingers stoke his side, circling his pointer finger around the last rib of his ribcage. "It is because you are."

His breath tickles Sebastian's neck—the comfortably of the car nearly makes him squirm; because when did Sebastian Smythe become this person who sits in a car cuddled with his boyfriend, in a closed relationship, listening to conversations about how important he is?

Sebastian shrugs his shoulder again, the other's body sliding up and down at the movement. Blaine figures Sebastian doesn't say anything because really, what is there to say? His boyfriend has never been a bottom before…because the position is just so unlike him. Blaine doesn't have to be a hundred percent sober to realize that. Sebastian is all about dominance, about owning a room when he walks in, about charm and charisma, and control. And maybe he won't say it in so many words but Blaine knows he wouldn't have let him do that with him if it wasn't something special. Important. Because Sebastian isn't submissive; he likes knowing he can directly affect what's happening to him and the other person. The difference is that Blaine isn't some random in the back of his car at Scandals, he's his boyfriend of almost a year; it's someone Sebastian respects, trusts.

And loves.

And that apparently makes all the difference.

"I'm glad it was me," Blaine says, a certain amount of sleepiness lacing around his voice. He closes his eyes, dipping his nose into Sebastian's shoulder, breathing in his scent. Sebastian's fingers lace loosely with his. "I'm glad it was me." He's aware he's repeated himself but it feels like there should be some sort of emphasis, even though his tone just sounds even more worn out than before.

Sebastian shakes his head, all sarcastic comments wiped clean from his tongue as he looks down at his boyfriend, who's damn near asleep on his shoulder.

"Come on," He says gently, moving Blaine over and snorting when the other asks if they can just sleep there in the car. "No, you've already dictated one part of the night with a shower stall, we're sleeping in a bed, B."

Can't even mock the situation if he wanted to because, fuck, he's glad it was him too…and not in the back of his car or in a stall at Scandals. Though, he guesses a shower stall doesn't make it much better.

But he guesses it's really the person that makes all the difference.

0000

Thanks Rachel for your help in idea bouncing :3


End file.
